


Marital Jealousy

by miserygrave



Series: Suspension Bridge Effect [3]
Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Feminization, Infidelity, Jealousy, M/M, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 01:33:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17013015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miserygrave/pseuds/miserygrave
Summary: Jesse knew getting in bed with a married man would mean infidelity was a given, but sometimes it was so easy to forget.





	Marital Jealousy

**Author's Note:**

> I was pretty nervous about posting this but please take heed of the tags! Enjoy ^-^

Mr. White's slamming into him, his chest rubbing against Jesse's back in a slick slide of sweaty skin, trapping the heat between them. He moans into the pillow his face is being shoved against, one firm hand clenching tightly and painfully in his hair to keep him in place. It's so fucking good, so hard and almost punishing, like Mr. White couldn't give a shit if it feels good for him, and that's kind of alright with Jesse because the rough treatment feels  _ amazing _ . It's always like this, maybe a different position, maybe Mr. White keeps his clothes on or maybe Jesse’s forced to come all over himself before so that it was even more bitterly sweet, but  _ always _ just barely on this side of cruel.

After the first time they’d fucked, Jesse had immediately gone online and figured out where he could get tested for STDs and proudly presented his clean results to Mr. White. Everything was more intense raw. Maybe it was just in his head, but he swears he can feel every inch of skin in deliciously excruciating detail, the heat and the ache magnified a hundred times.

“Mr. White?” he asks before he can stop himself, muffled by the pillow but still audible over the slap of skin on skin.

The thrusting stops and the hand in his hair relaxes its grip slightly. “Am I hurting you too much?” Not 'am I hurting you?’ full-stop, because they both know he is and they both know how into it they equally are.

“No, that's not - I was just wondering, like, do you fuck your wife like this? Or am I a special case?”

There's a long pause. Mr. White pulls out and away, ignoring Jesse's whine at the sudden emptiness. He gets flipped over onto his back and Mr. White looms over him with a mildly amused look.

“Jesse, are you asking me if I fuck you like I fuck Skyler?”

There's… a lot of loaded shit in there. Jesse knew getting in bed with a married man would mean infidelity was a given, but sometimes it was so easy to forget. He'd only seen the woman once when he was moving Emilio's body, and besides that Mr. White's life was perfectly cut in half - Jesse on one side and then his family and friends on the other. So hearing how casually he admits to sleeping with his wife pinches him in a way he wasn't ready to feel.

“Yeah,” Jesse admits a little shamefully, reeling a bit at how pathetic he suddenly feels.

Mr. White leans down and kisses him. “The answer is no, I don't. You're a special case.”

“Yeah but do you wish you could fuck her like this?” Mr. White blinks curiously at him, like he's not sure what he's saying, but Jesse can't stop the sudden gush of words. “Do you ever wish you could like, humiliate her? Make her suck on her own panties after you make her squirt in 'em? Or fuck her face while you pull on her hair? Like, is that why you're sleeping with me? So you can do all that shit without getting in trouble?”

Mr. White doesn't look amused anymore. “Where's this coming from?”

Jesse blinks hard to get the little prickle of hot tears out from his eyes. “I don't know, I just…” He licks his lips and turns his head to the side and looks at the wall. “Whatever. Let's just fuck.” He tries to turn over so he doesn't have to look Mr. White in the face anymore but he gets stopped and gently pressed into the bed so he can't move.

“Jesse, I told you before we started this that I'm married. You wanted this anyways, and I did too, so we have to recognize that.”

He bites the inside of his cheek. He will  _ not _ cry. “You get to do whatever you want to me, and it's like, yeah, man, it's hot as hell, but then you get to go home and make love to your wife too. Like you get both sides whenever you want and I - what do I get? I never -” Sharply he tries to turn over again to get away from Mr. White's increasingly piercing expression, but he's held down firmly.

“You never what, son?”

The term of endearment never fails to make him flush all over, and it slightly soothes the ache in his chest until he thinks about the sweet things he must call his wife. Choked, he says, “I never get to wake up with you in bed.”

And then he starts crying.

The hands fly off his shoulders and Mr. White looks guilty and shocked like he's just accidentally murdered a puppy in front of Jesse. “Oh - uh - Jesse, are you…?” He thankfully doesn't ask if he's okay, because he obviously fucking isn't. “What can I do? What do you need?”

Jesse doesn't know what he needs. After their disastrous trip out into the desert he’d learned first that Mr. White was getting a scan and he thought that the results would prove to be fatal, then they’d celebrated when the results turned out to be operable and he’d even gotten an operation done - and it was a success! And that was all amazing news, but it just served to remind him of how close Mr. White always seemed to be to the looming spectre of death, so much like his aunt had been, and he’d been so fucking  _ scared _ . It just wasn’t fair that he hadn’t been able to be there when Mr. White needed him, when he was recovering from surgery. It wasn’t fucking  _ fair. _

He just cries himself out as Mr. White awkwardly settles down next to him and holds him. When his sobs die down a bit, he rolls over and grabs some tissues to blow his nose, Mr. White's hand rubbing gently at his quivering shoulders.

“Sorry,” Jesse says. Wow that was fucking embarrassing. He keeps his eyes averted as he turns back. “Just forget it. We can like, keep going if you want.” He's not really in the mood anymore but it'll be a cold day in hell when he doesn't take every chance he gets to be closer to Mr. White.

“Jesse…”

He ignores him, and gets back on his stomach, hiding his red face with his pillow. “Go for it,” he invites, sticking his ass up.

Slowly, Mr. White leans over him, runs his hands up Jesse's back. Jesse just shuts his eyes and waits for him, but then the hands keep running back and forth, curling up to his shoulders and thumbs digging into his back. Once a moment passes and Mr. White keeps moving over his shoulders and rubbing against the little spots of stress in his muscles he realizes that he's massaging him.

“Yo, you don't have to get me back in the mood or anything,” Jesse says quietly into the silence. “It's fine if you just wanna fuck me.”

“I don't want to fuck you.”

Jesse opens his mouth to complain but his voice dies when he feels a soft kiss being pressed into the base of his neck. “I want to make love to you.” Jesse's stomach quivers and a small bloom of heat grows in him.

Kiss, kiss, kiss across his ears, his neck, his shoulders, and the massage continues down. It feels really fucking good, almost dreamy because he didn't know that Mr. White could touch him so lovingly, but he's getting kind of misty eyed and he  _ will not _ cry again.

He's moaning into the pillow and arching back into the hands when Mr. White pulls away and gently rolls him over.

They just look at each other for a second, Mr. White's eyes trailing him softly like he's looking at something really special. It's almost uncomfortable to have that look aimed at him, because he's mostly convinced that he doesn't deserve it, so he just squirms and guides the guy's hands back down to touch him.

“Come on, already, I'm fine,” Jesse says, and it's kinda true. He's still on the verge of crying again but his dick is half hard and that's good enough.

“You're beautiful, you know that?”

Jesse twitches in surprise. “What?”

Mr. White bends over him and kisses him slowly, pulling away between breaths to say, “I think your eyes are gorgeous. It really is such a pretty shade of blue.” And after another slow, sweet kiss, “Not to mention how cute it is when you blush and your ears go red.” And finally, “Most of all, I love seeing you smile. It's so goddamn adorable, just like the rest of you.”

Jesse hooks him arms around Mr. White's neck and trembles as he listens.

Mr. White moves down, kissing down his neck, down his chest. He stops along his collarbone and sucks a small little mark onto his skin. Jesse scratches lightly at his back - no marks - trying to encourage him to hurry up and fuck him into the bed already because he's  _ definitely  _ in the mood again and he needs to be close to him, needs to be connected so deeply he'll feel it for days, feel it even after the older man goes home and fucks his wife instead of him.

But Mr. White just moves along his chest, licks lightly at his nipple and sucks on it when Jesse keens and arches his back. One of his hands curves around Jesse's other pec, squeezing him, thumbing over it like he's squeezing a breast -

Jesse stalls at that thought and an odd realization sweeps over him. “Are you touching me like you do your wife?”

Mr. White presses another kiss to his chest before he leans up and nods. “That's right, Jesse. You're my wife right now. Isn't that what you want? For me to treat you like my wife?”

So many conflicting emotions fire up at that that he doesn't even know how to begin unpacking it. He struggles to say something, anything, to get mad or  _ anything _ but he just shivers and lets Mr. White go back to sucking as his chest like he's got tits.

The free hand that isn't squeezing his ‘tit’ moves down and presses his dick down towards his balls instead of letting it lay in the crook of his hip and leg. He pushes it down, curls it in towards his taint, and then two fingers lightly rub at the very tip of it. Jesse moans weakly as he realizes what it is he's doing. Mr. White has got his hand pressed against him and he's fingering the tip like it's his fucking  _ clit _ .

Mr. White kisses him as he shivers and shakes and tries to figure out why his dick is drooling at the thought of it being used like a pretend clit, but he's so fucking hard he can't think anymore.

“You're really wet,” Mr. White notes, smiling in between kisses.

“Fuck me, please, just fucking do it already,” Jesse begs, dick twitching happily again and God he must be sick in the head or something because then he says, “Please fuck my pussy, Mr. White.”

He hears a sharp inhale and the hand around him clenches briefly. At least it's not just him who's fucked in the head. Mr. White lets go of his dick and it pops back up into the air, quivering without anything touching it.

Mr. White settles himself more firmly between his legs, but instead of shoving back in like he usually would, he goes for the bottle of lube instead and squirts it in between Jesse’s legs until his balls, his taint, and his twitching opening are soaking with it. He closes his eyes and feels Mr. White rubbing the lube in, curling his fingers into Jesse’s already stretched hole, coaxing it in until he’s ready to gush with it the instant Mr. White pushes his dick in.

“Jesse,” Mr. White calls him, voice soft. When he opens his eyes again, Mr. White is right above him, staring him in the eyes, and he slowly takes Jesse’s hands in each of his, clasping them all together as he pushes in like he’s scared of breaking him. Slowly, slowly, slowly… Inch by slow inch, the wet stream of lube leaking out making him feel like he’s a girl climaxing over his dick and feeling so fucking dirty and hot he almost comes from that alone.

And then he realizes they’re holding hands. They’re holding hands as Mr. White rhythmically rolls his hips in and out, kissing him with languid little presses of lips and tangling of tongues. They’re holding hands while Mr. White fucks him like he fucks his wife - no,  _ makes love to _ \- and Jesse is briefly filled with a jealous anger that she has this attention showered on her whenever she wants and he doesn’t, but he forces it down and tries to enjoy the moment for what it is.

In this moment, for just this time, he’s playing the role of Mr. White’s wife, he gets to enjoy her usual position, and that has to be good enough.

Mr. White presses his lips against his cheek and Jesse feels him manoeuver their hands so that he can run his thumb over Jesse's empty ring finger. That’s all it takes to push him back to tears. He feels like everything inside of him is aching, and he can’t fucking believe he’s been brought to this, but he has.

The rough brush of lips and goatee kiss his tears away, and he bitterly admits into the closeness between them, “I love you.”

Mr. White goes still, pulls back with a searching look as if he doesn’t believe it, like maybe he’s just playing his role, but he must see something in Jesse’s face that convinces him because he kisses him deeply. It’s not painful or forceful like normal, just sensual.

“Jesse,” Mr. White breathes into his mouth. “You’re so good to me.” The hand playing with his ring finger slips down and circles the tip of his dick, rubbing insistently at it. “Come on, Jesse, for me. You can do it. Come on, sweetheart.”

Brokenly, Jesse sobs and tightens up, coming over his stomach with just the delicious feeling of Mr. White making love to him and the lightest touches against his cockhead bringing him over.

“Good, good, that’s so good,” Mr. White praises, kissing along his face and neck, hips thrusting a bit more jaggedly and just a moment later he comes inside of Jesse, hips pressing tightly together as he finishes.

They lay there together, Jesse trembling and quietly sniffling as his tears stop and Mr. White struggling to get his breathing back to normal and pulling out of Jesse’s aching, stuffed hole. Jesse feels a thumb run gently over his entrance and just like with the lube he pushes his come back inside as it tries to leak out.

“How do you feel?” Mr. White asks when he’s slightly more composed, rolling to his side and holding Jesse tightly against him.

He really doesn’t know. Part of him is reeling from how stupidly hot it was to pretend he was a chick, pretend he was Mr. White’s wife that he was embracing so sweetly. Part of him feels so empty that it hurts. Part of him is angry, jealous, wants to force Mr. White to pick one or the other, him or his wife, but it’s a worthless idea because he knows that he’ll pick his family and Jesse will stay with him anyways.

“You like me, right?” Jesse asks. He won’t put his heart on the line and ask for anything more than that. Mr. White isn’t the kind of person to fall in love with a piece of shit junkie like him, but just as long as he  _ likes _ him then it’ll be enough.

“Of course, Jesse. I need you.” Mr. White kisses him for a few seconds. “Believe me when I say I couldn’t do this without you.”

A warm tingle runs over him. Mr. White likes him, needs him, what does it matter if he loves him or not? He feels so euphoric over that simple admission that he asks, “Can you stay tonight?” The weight of silence drags him back down to earth and Mr. White is just watching him with a slightly furrowed brow. Hurriedly, he curls against the older man and corrects himself. “Not - not for the whole night, if you can’t, but maybe like a few more hours or…”

“We’ll see. Maybe next time,” Mr. White says and Jesse kisses him until the ache in his chest dulls.

Jesse wakes up the next morning alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I still have some places left to explore in this verse so let me know if you enjoyed :D


End file.
